Dreamer's Pool Read Online Free Page B

reprieve.’
    I gaped at him. ‘Are you telling me you can turn back time?’ He was fey, no doubt of that, and the fey had powerful magic. I had seen it, long ago. But this – the fellow must be out of his mind.
    Conmael’s gaze was wintry. ‘Try to exact vengeance now, and you will surely fail. You are no fool; in your heart, you know that is simple truth. Exercise patience and self-control for the period I have set out, and you may have some small chance of success later. My proposal is your only way forward. It would be a mistake to believe I cannot, or will not, do exactly what I have told you.’
    ‘You’re proposing that instead of being Mathuin’s prisoner I should be yours.’
    Conmael rose to his feet. ‘That comment shows a wilful misunderstanding of the situation. I thought I’d made myself quite clear. I’m offering a home, safety, an opportunity to do some good. I’m giving you the chance to remake your life. You’d be the first to say what a wretched, broken thing it has become.’
    I found myself unable to speak. Conmael moved toward the door. Almost dawn. He put his hand on the latch.
    ‘Wait!’ My mouth was dry. ‘Supposing I agree to this and stick to the conditions, what happens after seven years?’
    He turned his head toward me. His face was grave. ‘Then you are your own woman again, and free to make your own choices.’ He opened the door, and there was Slammer, waiting. ‘We’re done here,’ Conmael said, and before I could get another word out, he had stepped past the guard and was gone from view.
    ‘Wait!’ I called. ‘Yes! I say yes!’ I rushed out the door and into the immoveable form of Slammer.
    But there was no reply; only the plangent note of a bird as it flew across the brightening sky: Fool! Fool!
    Conmael was nowhere to be seen.

2
    ~GRIM~
    S he goes out and the door shuts behind her. Gone. Not coming back. Not ever. Don’t rightly know how I’ll go on without her. Don’t know how I can keep on breathing through the dark. As long as she’s here I’m still alive, deep down. As long as she’s here I’ve got a job to do. Someone to look after.
    When they kill her, I’ll know. I’ll feel it like she does, the moment, the snuffing out. After that it’ll be dark all the time. Nobody to hear me. Nobody to see me. When she’s gone, I’m gone.
    ‘Shut it, Bonehead!’ someone yells from down the other end. Didn’t think I’d been making any noise. Put my head down on my knees, stuff a fold of blanket up against my mouth, push the words in. Squeeze my eyes tight. Stupid. You can’t see the sunrise in here anyway. But I do see it: the sky getting brighter, the guards holding her still, the knife flashing in the sun. She’ll be brave. She’s been brave from the day they threw her in here. Standing up for me. Talking me through the dark. Snappish and foul-mouthed, but alive. So much alive. Like a flame that never goes out, no matter what. Looking over at me and seeing, not a big lump of nothing, but a man.
    Door creaks. Keys jingle. I start the words to shut the bad things out.
    ‘Get a move on, Slut!’ Slammer snarls. Then, ‘For the love of all the gods, Bonehead, knock it off!’ And, a wonder, I hear her steps along the walkway and the clang of her cell door. She’s back.
    Slammer leaves her. I wait till the door down the end shuts behind him. Lift my head; try to keep my voice steady. ‘Lady? You there?’
    ‘Shut up, Grim.’
    ‘Who was it? Did they . . . ?’
    ‘Are you deaf? I said shut up.’
    I do as she says. When that door opened, light came in. I heard a bird singing. It’s got to be nearly dawn. Why did Slammer bring her back? I want to ask, Does this mean they’re not going to kill you after all? But they are, or she wouldn’t be hunched up in there, trying not to cry. I can’t see her, but I know that’s what she’s doing. Who came to visit her? She always said there was nobody. Maybe that’s a lie. Maybe there’s a husband, a